Formerly "In My Room". Memaw dies and Sheldon, devastated, locks himself in his room. Excerpt: "Do be serious, Leonard," Sheldon scoffed. "Howard regularly defeats you at Klingon Boggle, and his mastery of the language is remedial at best."

Title: "The Neurotransmitter Derivation"Fandom:The Big Bang TheoryCharacters: Everybody, but mostly Amy and SheldonDescription: A future race looks back in time on the aftermath of the death Sheldon's grandmother. They report what they see. "And this—dear reader—this is the moment in which Sheldon Cooper did something he had never done before."Genre: Hurt/ComfortRating: PGWord Count: 4782Warning: Minor character deathDisclaimer:The Big Bang Theory is an American sitcom created by Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady, and produced by them along with Lee Aronsohn. It is a Warner Brothers production and airs on CBS. All characters, plots and creative elements derived from the source material belong exclusively to their respective owners. I, the author of the fan fiction, do not, in any way, profit monetarily from the story.Feedback: Accepted with love and squees.

We are the Watchers. That is not our name, of course, but that is what we do.* We are singular in our ability to manipulate time—to bend it, modify it, transverse it as a fish does water. We don't entertain ourselves on fictionalized accounts of imaginary beings. Instead, we cull our diversion from the infinite daily business of civilizations from the distant past. Of them all, Humanity remains a most curious creature. Though you may be primitive in nature, you fascinate us and we study you. We marvel at your whimsy. We applaud your courage. We cogitate your folly. We shudder at your atrocity. But mostly, we are awed by your love.

It is on that note that we began our tale.

On this particular day, we find a young theoretical physicist named Sheldon Cooper and his loyal companion, Leonard Hofstadter. While we find Leonard charming and upright, it is Sheldon who has captured our collective admiration. His heightened intelligence, scholarly acuity, and rational manner all call to a time too advanced for his contemporaries. And yet, he was. Sheldon, dear reader, is the protagonist of our story.

Sheldon and Leonard found themselves on their way home from the airport having recently returned from Galveston. The car ride home was a quiet one, as Sheldon was uninterested in talking, and even eschewed the car games he typically initiated when en route to… almost anywhere.

As they entered the building, carrying a single piece of luggage and a garment bag each, Sheldon silently followed Leonard to the mailbox. Leonard, for his part, took out the correspondence with glee.

"Hey look, the latest issue of Physics Today arrived while we gone. The cover story is on coincident M2-branes—your favorite."

Sheldon looked up at Leonard slowly as if he had suddenly awoken from a trance.

"As you, my friends, workmates and half of Galveston have told me a number of times, and yet I am at a lost as to why. You no more have control over the fact that my memaw died than I have control over the annoying neighbor who insists on boiling a kettle of tea at the exact moment that I retire for the evening each night. And yet, you all insist on apologizing for it."

"Well, that's a very nonsensical way of doing so," he said as he began to ascend the stairs. Leonard followed.

"Regardless, if there is anything I can do, just… let me know."

"Well, let's see. Can you reverse the decomposition of my memaw's decaying body, reanimate her cells, restore her vital forces, repair the damage to her brain caused by her stroke and reinstate the memories and personality traits—that I so cherished—to her being?"

"Of course not, Sheldon. I can't do any of those things."

"Then, I fear, there is nothing you can do."

"Such an ass," Leonard muttered under his breath. "Fine then," he barked. "I won't do anything."

They continued up the stairs in silence.

"Although Leonard," Sheldon began. "On second thought, I would like to ask one thing of you."

"What is it?" Leonard asked, perking up some.

"Please ensure that we have no visitors."

Leonard paused in a moment of reflection. "Um, you mean that you won't have any visitors."

"Of course I won't," Sheldon replied. "And I ask that you won't either."

Leonard tried to back away from committing to that. "For how long do you imagine?"

"Until… until I want visitors. And currently there's no way of foreseeing when that might be," he said.

Leonard sighed. "OK then; I'll make sure that no one bothers you."

"I didn't ask that you make sure that no one bothers me. I am more than capable of ensuring that no one bothers me. I asked that you ensure that we have no visitors."

"Fine," Leonard conceded, motivated by sympathy. "Fine. We won't have any visitors." He mumbled the next part. "Into the foreseeable future."

Sheldon nodded once appreciatively. "I do thank you."

"You are welcome."

Upon reaching their apartment, they could hear noises coming from inside. Unbeknownst to them, behind the door were a young, Indian astrophysicist name Rajesh Koothrappali, a Jewish space engineer called Howard Wolowitz and, of course, a buxom, blonde waitress, who went by the name of Penny. Leonard opened the door to find her in the kitchen shaking a bag of popcorn while the TV was blaring at a deafening volume. Howard and Penny both froze at the sight of the apartment's actual tenants, while the astrophysicist sitting in Sheldon's spot (who we'll refer to as Raj), suddenly stood up rod straight.

"It's not what you think," Penny blurted.

"What I think is that you all are hanging out in our apartment, eating popcorn and watching TV," Leonard said.

Penny puckered her lips, pausing a moment. "OK, it's what you think."

Sheldon turned to Leonard. "It hasn't been a full minute since you gave me your word," he cried, "and I come home to a living room full of visitors."

"How was I supposed to know they would be in here?"

"I don't know but when you accepted the charge I assumed you would keep abreast of the situation."

"Look," Howard said standing and placing a hand on his chest. "I take full responsibility for this… this…" he groped for a word.

"Presumption? Intrusion? Violation?" Leonard supplied.

"I was going to say friendly visit."

"Get out!" Leonard roared. "Everybody but Penny."

"Why does Penny get to stay?" Howard whined.

"Because she wasn't sitting in Sheldon's spot, nor was she drinking my Red Bulls." Howard hid the accusing can behind his back. "Besides, she's the only one with a key."

Raj leaned over, whispering something in Howard's ear.

"But the documentary isn't over," Howard protested.

"Give me a break. Keeping up with Kardashians is not a documentary," Leonard said. He grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. "Now go!"

Raj and Howard scooped up their things and scrambled out of the door.

When they left, Sheldon shuffled to his room and slammed the door.

"I was going to ask you how he was doing, but… I guess not well," Penny sighed. "Poor guy."

Penny sighed. "I stopped by to make sure the plants were watered and—"

"Plants?" Leonard interrupted. "What plants?"

"Those," she said, pointing to the table in the corner. It was teeming with bouquets of every shape and size. "The university, Howard's mom, Stuart from the comic book store, some of you guys' workmates and Sheldon's old church in Galveston sent them."

"Wow," Leonard said with some surprise. "That was nice." Then he thought a minute. "And nothing from you guys, I noticed."

"Oh yeah," Penny said. "We chipped in and got him a box of three-ply Kleenex, a bottle of Lysol, a tube of Airborne—"

"Chipped in? Really? What did that cost? Six bucks?" Leonard sighed and headed to his room.

"Wait," Penny said. "And… a pre-beta copy of Halo 6."

Leonard slammed on the brakes and spun around. "How in the world did you manage that?"

"Stuart pulled some strings with some guys he knows."

Leonard looked on incredulously.

"And I had to pull some strings with Stuart, but it all worked out."

"What kind of strings?"

"The… details are unimportant."

"Penny, you didn't," Leonard moaned.

"NO, not that. I just had to get him a free meal at the Cheesecake Factory."

Leonard nodded happily. "That's all? That's not bad."

"And I let him tell his geeky, creepy friends that came with that I was his girlfriend." She shuddered with the memory.

"Wow," Leonard said impressed. "What are you going to do if he ever wins the Nobel Prize?"

"God forbid," she said, and knocked on the counter. She opened the bag of popcorn and scarfed down a handful. "Popcorn?" she offered.

"No, no popcorn. And I still don't understand how plant watering turned into House Party: the White and Nerdy Edition."

"Um, Raj isn't White, and I'm not nerdy, so.."

"You know what I mean," Leonard said.

"Now that I think about it," Penny said after a beat, "they just knocked on the door and I let them in."

"Penny!" Leonard said.

"What was I supposed to do?" she cried. "It was Thai night."

Leonard shook his head, then grabbed his garment bag and luggage and headed towards the back.

"Wait!" Penny said. "Some guy named Barry Kripke sent this." She stooped down behind the island in the kitchen and emerged with a box full of what mangled parts were left of M.O.N.T.E. "The note said, 'See, I'm not a bastard.'"

"That's… less thoughtful."

"Creeped me out, so I keep it behind the counter." She pushed it back. "So how was the funeral?"

"Right, but he barely eats or drinks, and he just stays by himself all day. He hasn't been to work in over a week."

"Lord," she said. She sounded distressed. "My poor Shelly."

"Do you think that maybe you could come and try to cheer him up?"

She sighed. "I don't know Leonard."

Leonard looked at the phone in disbelief. "I'm sorry?"

"Leonard," she started. "You know I love all my children more than life itself. And whenever you've called to let me know my Shelly needed me, I was on the first thing smoking out of Galveston. But, even though my faith is strong I know that she is in a better place, my mother's presence is dearly missed here on earth. And between managing my own grief, settling her estate and wrestling with my crazy brothers and sisters over who gets which toaster oven or ceramic cat, I have just about all I can take right now."

"I understand Mrs. Cooper," Leonard said. "But maybe if you came you all could, I don't know, heal together?" He winced at how corny that sounded.

"I love my Shelly. But he's never been one much for comforting. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Leonard sighed. "I know what you mean."

"Listen," she said. "Shelly's young and he's strong. He'll pull through. He just needs a little more time."

Leonard hung up and looked out at the group.

"She's not coming is she?" Penny asked.

"No," Leonard said. "She's just about at the breaking point herself."

"Fine then," Penny said. "I'm going in." With that she marched to the back room. A moment later, the guys heard Sheldon roar "GET OUT!" and there was loud slamming of the door. Penny came scurrying back to the living room.

"OK that didn't work," she said.

Howard spoke. "I say we just… turn the Wii back on, and then—"

"Amy Farrah Fowler!" Penny yelled. "Where the hell is she?"

"Yeah," Leonard said. "Where is she?"

"What kind of 'girlfriend' is that?" Penny asked with some judgment. "Why hasn't she come yet?"

"Why haven't you come yet?" Penny said into the phone.

"I called Sheldon at the beginning of this unfortunate occasion and he made it clear to me in no uncertain terms that he did not want to see me or anyone else, for that matter. I have put forth every effort to respect his wishes."

"Yeah, but just because that's what he wants doesn't mean that's what's good for him."

"Penny," Amy said. "Despite my credentials as a neurobiologist, I am not a mental health professional and I am very wary of speculating on what course of action would best improve his current disposition."

Penny pulled the phone away from her ear and made a puking gesture with her finger.

"Look, it's not rocket science—"

"In which case I would be only slightly more qualified to formulate an opinion."

Penny sighed. "Regardless, this is just a matter of supporting him. Look, we're…" She paused. "We're best friends, right?"

"Yes," Amy replied.

Howard spoke up. "Since when have you been best friends with Amy Farrah Fowler?" he said. Penny waved him away with her hand.

"And if I were in this situation, would you allow me to rot in my room like yesterday's lunch or would you try to throw me a life jacket?"

Leonard took up where Penny left off. "Hi Amy, this is Leonard," he began. "As a neurobiologist, you know that sudden life traumas, such as the loss of a loved one, can have can have a demonstrable impact on neurotransmitter levels in the brain, meaning that environmental stimuli can have resultant psychological effects. Hence, if the environmental trigger causing neurotransmitter depletion in the brain—in this case, the death of Sheldon's grandmother—is addressed, the physiological component will likewise be readjusted. However, if the environmental trigger—or grief—is not properly addressed, his neurotransmitters may be impacted to the point where he reaches a critical neurochemical imbalance, which can lead to long-term clinical depression, physical malfunction, or much worse." He nodded. "Yes… yes… OK," he said and hung up.

"Well?" Penny asked.

Leonard plopped down in his chair. "She's on her way."

Leonard knocked on Sheldon's bedroom door.

"Sheldon," he called. "I brought with me a visitor."

He audibly gasped. "Visi—Honestly? Are you trying to exasperate me? Have I been speaking in a language that you don't understand?"

"No."

"French?"

"No."

"Swahili, maybe?"

"No."

"Klingon?"

Leonard looked offended. "Hold on now; I speak Klingon."

"Please, Leonard," Sheldon scoffed. "Do be serious. Howard regularly defeats you in Klingon Boggle and his mastery of the language is remedial at best."

"That's akin to saying that Kripke's enunciation is 'pretty good', or that Penny's driving is 'pretty good' or that Tim Story's bungled attempt at reinterpreting The Fantastic Four story was 'pretty good'—which is to say, it is not."

"You know Sheldon, you can be a real jerk when you want to be."

"And would this be another one of your ill-guided attempts at cheering me up?"

"No, my ill-guided attempt at cheering you up was bringing Amy here."

There was a long silence. Amy looked at Leonard quizzically, and he motioned for her to say something… anything.

"Hi Sheldon. This is Amy."

Beat.

"Amy Farrah Fowler?"

"Are there any other Amy's in your immediate acquaintance?"

"No."

"Then naturally, I am Amy Farrah Fowler."

There was a long pause.

"Hello Amy."

"Hello, Sheldon."

More silence.

"Well," Leonard said, "can she come in?"

"Amy," Sheldon replied, "I can't let you see me this way. I'm unshaven, my hair is disheveled and I haven't had a proper bowel movement in several days. I'm in no condition to receive a visitor."

"Oh, I'm sure she doesn't care about that," Leonard assured him.

"Indeed I don't," Amy concurred. "This is not, as one might say, a 'booty call'. Therefore I won't be making any inquiries as to the functioning of your colon."

Leonard considered correcting her epic misunderstanding of the expression, but decided against it.

A moment later, the door cracked open and behind it stood a crouching Sheldon. He had several days' worth of stubble, his hair was in disarray, and he looked gaunt.

"You may come in," he said. Amy and Leonard advanced forward. "Just the girl," he spat, and slammed the door.

Leonard shrugged and walked back towards the peanut gallery convening in his living room.

"Well?" Penny asked impatiently.

"Well, he let her in."

Penny clasped her hands in glee.

Raj leaned into Howard's ear. Howard shook his head. "They're not going to have sex." He turned to Leonard. "It's your roll."

Leonard took the dice and rolled a seven.

"Aw, c'mon," he groaned. "This is the third time in a row I've landed on one of your planets. I might as well just hand you all of my latinum and call it a day."

Howard chuckled to himself while taking Leonard's money. "Those are the breaks of Star Trek Monopoly, my friend. Those are the breaks."

Meanwhile, Sheldon took a sweeping look around his immaculate room. "Excuse the mess," he said, "as my convalescence has left my living quarters in a state of disorder."

"I find your room to be perfectly adequate," she chirped.

Sheldon smiled bashfully. "Thank you," he said. He cleared his throat. "Unfortunately I have no chairs, as I generally don't allow people in my room. But, on this rarest of occasions you'll have to make do with the edge of the bed."

"Thank you," Amy said and sat down.

Sheldon watched her intently for a very long time, until he seemed to be looking past her entirely, and gloom returned to his face.

"How are you?" Amy asked at last.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, then turned away, his face as still as stone. He turned back to Amy's general vicinity without actually meeting her eyes.

"Not well," he replied flatly.

Amy nodded. "I suspected so much. The death of a love one and the resulting grief can have, not only neurological repercussions, but physiological ones as well."

"As I well know," he muttered. Coming closer, he took a seat next to her on the bed, still looking off into nowhere with a blank look of dejection.

"Amy?" he began.

"Yes."

"I have seen you hug Penny."

Amy nodded. "She is my best friend."

"Can you…" He turned to her, meeting her eyes. "…hug me?" he asked.

Wordlessly, she placed her arms around him, embracing him. He closed his eyes savoring the moment without reciprocating. With time, she pulled away.

"May I show you something?" he asked her. She nodded. He reached for his nightstand and procured a letter. Pulling it from its envelope, he handed the note to Amy.

"This," he explained, "is the last letter my memaw ever wrote to me."

Amy opened it delicately, and softly began to read aloud.

"Dearest Moon Pie," it began. "I am afraid your memaw is having the darndest time with her health here lately. My blood pressure spikes up only to come right back down, and sometimes it feels like my heart is racing and I can barely see. Every time I go to the doctor, that man gives me another pill. It's on account of my health that I haven't been able to make the trip to California. I would love nothing more than to come out there and see you doing all your smart stuff."

Sheldon interrupted there. "'Smart stuff' was the term she generally used to mean theoretical physics with a concentration in string theory."

Amy nodded. "I discerned that from the context." She continued reading. "I am so proud of you. I brag to all my neighbors and a couple of the nurses about just how smart you are. I do hope we will see you again before the summer heat beats down on Texas. If you let me know when you're coming, I'll have a plate of chicken fried steak waiting for you when you get here. But until then, please know"—and it's at this point that Sheldon began to recite the words with Amy—"that I love you more than the sky is blue, and than the desert is dry and than the Rio Grande is wide—and I always will. Sincerely, Memaw."

Sheldon plucked the letter from Amy's hand and, carefully folding it, returned it to its envelope.

"I must have read this cherished tome a hundred times," he said pensively. "Ninety-six times actually."

Amy sighed wistfully. "Your grandmother sounds like she was an extraordinary person."

Sheldon turned to her excitedly, pleasant surprise written on his face. "So you see that?" he said. "Because I wasn't sure if you would be able to discern that from the simple language and clichéd imagery."

Amy placed a hand on his. "Sheldon, you can't always judge a person by their academic achievement. Penny has taught me that, more often, you must look at a person's strength of character and courage to love."

He gazed at her a long while, motionless but clearly touched by her words. And this—dear reader—this is the moment in which Sheldon Cooper did something he had never done before. With eyes closed, he leaned forward and, ever so gently, placed a tender kiss alongside her temple.

Amy, closing her eyes as well, leaned into him, savoring the simple moment of tenderness. When he sat back, they stared at each a moment before mutually falling into a splendid kiss.

Mind you, dear reader, this was not a hasty act of sexual impulse. Instead, it was one of purest expression, of silent discourse, of healing and warm affection. When they pulled away they stared at each a great while, steeping in the beauty of the moment.

"Sheldon?" Amy said at last, a bit breathless.

"Yes, Amy?"

"Was that your first kiss?"

Sheldon nodded faintly. "Yes it was."

"Did you like it?"

He paused before answering. "Yes. I did."

She waited a beat, and turned away, before returning her gaze to him. "I did too."

Sheldon leaned over and rested his weary head upon her lap, and, after a moment of uncertainty, she began to stroke his hair.

"Amy?" he began.

"Yes Sheldon?"

"Can you sing to me 'Soft Kitty'?"

"But," she said confused. "I thought you only sang that when you were ill."

"Considering my abysmal serotonin levels," he explained, "I think now would be as an appropriate time as any."